


you got the cure underneath your shirt

by splatticus



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Unsafe Sex, porn as an excuse for fluff as an excuse for roasting mitch and kappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splatticus/pseuds/splatticus
Summary: I'm smoking, come and put me out.It's a dumb thing to try on a practice day, maybe, but Auston is all about that.
Relationships: Auston Matthews/William Nylander
Comments: 24
Kudos: 131





	you got the cure underneath your shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Title and part of the summary is from "Problem" by Natalia Kills.

The whole thing is William’s own fault, really. So maybe Auston whispered something like it in his ear once or twice, part of a constant litany of filthy shit that he and William should do to each other. For each other. But most of those just come out in the heat of the moment, as they fuck or as they lounge around in the afterglow--idle fantasies like fingering William open while they’re still at the rink, or slipping a plug into him to wear underneath his practice clothes. He laughs when he hears them, breathy and delighted, and that is usually pleasure enough for Auston.

So he doesn’t really expect anything at the end of practice that day.

Auston is fresh off the shower and waiting for someone to tell him where they're going for lunch, scrolling through his phone while pulling a hoodie over himself. He receives a notification for a Snapchat video from William so he taps it open, unthinking, and almost drops his phone when he realizes what he’s looking at.

The plug is black and smooth, taking on a satiny sheen as a large hand turns it over in the dull light. The widest part tapers smoothly to a softly rounded tip. Auston is intimately familiar with the thing, how pretty and supple it is as it pushes against the pucker of William’s hole on the first try, before slipping in completely and resting snug between his cheeks. After a few seconds, the image flips to show William looking down at the camera. Behind him, the familiar tile design of the bathrooms at Mastercard Centre. He gives the briefest wink before the video cuts out.

With shaking hands, Auston sends him a DM: _Holy shit. Are you serious?_

He doesn’t quite believe that it’s anything more than a joke, but then William returns to the locker room in his typical hoodie and shorts ensemble, looking like normal, everyday Willy to everyone but Auston. For a moment, they just stand a few feet away from each other. An impish smile plays on William’s lips. Auston stares into his smiling eyes and his brain proceeds to melt into hot goo.

Most of the time he feels like he knows everything that he possibly can about William--from his tendencies on the ice to his inexplicable love of McDonalds to what most reliably gets him off in bed. But once in a while, he throws these kinds of curveballs and Auston is reeled in and obsessed all over again.

“Ready to go?” William asks him, voice innocent. The little shit.

“Fuck yeah.”

They follow as their teammates stream out of the locker room, chirps and idle chatter going over both of their heads. Auston is already hard in his jeans. Shoulders bump against his, and he distantly registers jokes directed at him from Travis or Mitch or the pope for all the attention he’s paying them--he just responds to each one with a distracted laugh. William has fallen back a little from the crowd, hands jammed into the pockets of his hoodie. Auston is so close to spontaneously combusting, just imagining how walking must feel for him right now.

He walks briskly to his car and leans against the driver’s side, giddy and impatient. William is following him at a slower pace, eyes bright as they meet his and holy fucking shit, Auston can’t wait to get his mouth all over him. Auston is preparing a suggestive quip for when William is close enough to hear, but a loud shout shakes him out of his own thoughts.

“Hey, wait up!”

William visibly startles when Kappy rushes over and slings an arm over his shoulder, giving him a squeeze as he matches William’s stride. A second later, Johnny is at Kappy’s other side, hands patting over his jeans distractedly. The panicked look on William’s face probably mirrors Auston’s own as the three of them get closer to the car.

This is a nightmare. Auston is living in a literal nightmare.

“Don’t worry about Mitch, he’s copping a ride from Mo and Zach,” Kappy says, and Auston vaguely realizes that he’s talking to him. The rest of his brain matter is trained on William, who’s now clutching the passenger side door like it’s a life raft, as both Kappy and Johnny jostle him forward to get into the backseat.

“What are we gonna do?” Auston demands over the roof. 

William only shakes his head, his face pale. Auston is about to suggest that he pretend to feel sick and go back into the building, but Kappy picks that moment to slide down the windows and yell at him.

“Dude, _hurry up_. We’re gonna miss out on patio space.”

Auston has never hated outdoor dining more in his life.

-

During the short drive to the restaurant, Auston keeps stealing glances to his side--worry bubbles up when William refuses to meet his eye. He gives distracted one-word answers to every one of Kappy's questions, voice barely rising above a whisper. He wants to check in, reassure William that everything's gonna be fine, but he's pulled up his hood over his head, staring out of the window.

They don't get patio seating. "Told you," Kappy grumbles at him, but Auston cannot give a single, solitary fuck. 

Auston hangs back for a couple of steps while their group of eight is led to two booths next to each other. Tentatively, he brushes a hand against William's--fingers wrap around his own immediately, strong and hot and trembling. Auston answers with a couple of long squeezes, his own heart racing, only letting go when it's their turn to sit across from each other. 

They take the menus from the server with a round of thanks. Zach turns to William and asks him with a smile, "So what do you wanna get?"

"It should be Mitch's show today," Auston says loudly, interrupting him. "He knows this place the best." He turns to Mitch who beams at all of them.

Kappy snorts from the other table. "Great, can't wait to try their version of chicken fingers here."

"Oh fuck you!"

"Quick, name a root vegetable without looking at your phone."

The argument devolves further when Mitch calls out, "Garlic!" and both booths have a fight over whether it counts, since garlic is dug up from the ground. William looks back gratefully amidst the din, even as he squirms and hunches his shoulder in the guise of poring over the menu.

"You good?" Auston asks under his breath. 

He has half a mind to simply stand up and march William out of the restaurant as quickly as possible. Well, they can't walk too quickly, if the plug is glancing against William's prostate with every step. Maybe the pressure makes his muscles clench and tighten around the silicone bulb, the way he does when Auston gets the right leverage and starts pounding into--

"I'm fine," William whispers back, interrupting the wild static of Auston's thoughts. "Just--just keep them distracted. I'm gonna leave after the entrees."

"_We're_ gonna leave." He knows he can't reach out and hold William's hand under the table. Not in public, not in this city. So he knocks their knees together, earning him a tremulous smile.

"Hey, you two," Mitch cuts in. "Back me up here."

William's voice only shakes a little when he says, "Mitchy's right!" Only the server approaching to take their orders prevents a new round of bickering.

-

He's not gonna last for long. William's cheeks and neck look flushed, sweat starting to form on the bridge of his nose. There's an almost imperceptible tremor to the way he's holding his fork, how it rings lightly against his almost untouched plate. Every minute or so he goes unnervingly still, eyes widening. Then he takes long, measured pulls of breath before relaxing again. 

"Yeah, but like, do I have to know about history to appreciate the gross nuclear mutation stuff?" Mitch is asking Zach while chomping on a potato wedge. Auston lost the topic of conversation a few minutes back. William isn't paying attention either. "I don't really care about that."

"It's wasn't that lo--just look up some news footage or something, Mitch."

Auston should feel worse about this--he is obviously miserable. But it gets into something primal and dark in him, the knowledge that William is sitting here, in the middle of a hopping new restaurant in downtown Toronto, just burning for him. They're lucky that William got to sit next to Zach at least, so he doesn't get jostled around when the others shove at each other. Any minute now, however, one of their teammates is going to notice and point out that he hasn't said more than a couple of sentences that afternoon. No matter how much selfish pleasure Auston's getting out of the entire situation, there's William to consider.

The way that Auston gets them out of their predicament is a stupid one. He fundamentally understands this the moment he opens his mouth and drops a casual, "Hey Will," before continuing with, "you said you wanted to check out my Instant Pot at home, right?"

William looks back at him, uncomprehending. Kappy interjects before he can reply. 

"What the hell's an Instant Pot?" 

"It's cooking shit," Auston says, affecting an impatient tone.

"What are you even gonna use it for, Willy?"

He gulps and says, "I don't know. Just stuff."

From the whispered way he says this, and how he can't hide the trembling of his bottom lip, Auston thinks William's not gonna be up for another ten minutes of explaining simple kitchen equipment to Kappy.

"Oh hey," Zach pipes up, his expression brightening, "I know a great recipe for lemon chicken that you can totally make on it. I can just--"

Auston springs into action. Swiping his car keys from the table, he pushes against Mitch in his haste to stand up. He steps to William's side of the table and grabs at his elbow. "Hey, let's get a move on. I have someplace to be after this."

That place is hopefully in his bedroom, right between Willy's thighs, but the table doesn't need to hear that.

He winces in sympathy when he sees William take a sharp breath, closing his eyes as he levers himself out of the seat. But he powers through it, and before long they're both fistbumping their teammates goodbye. Auston cuts off every attempt to talk them into hanging out after lunch. That's a no to club hopping, and a no to rooftop golf, and a no to Chel night. Putting a hand between William’s shoulder blades to steady him, Auston leads them out of the restaurant to the sound of Kappy complaining to Johnny about losing their ride.

As he slides gingerly into the passenger seat, William exclaims, "Oh my god, I'm gonna kill Kappy."

Auston turns on the ignition, maneuvering out of the parking spot quickly. The car is able to merge into the typical afternoon crush--he can't tell how long it's gonna take them to get home. He reaches over and skims his fingers over William's face. His skin is feverish, blond hair starting to stick to his damp temples.

"You okay?"

"Hell no," William groans. Auston guesses it's meant to sound frustrated but it's frankly just fucking hot. "It's somehow worse when the--fuck--when you're driving."

God, what a visual. Auston's own car must be acting like a giant vibrator, the rumble of the engine winding William up so that he's taking tiny, hitching breaths as he stares up at the ceiling. He licks his lips before saying, "Do you wanna just, I don't know, park somewhere hidden?"

"No, Auston, I don't want to jerk off in a Loblaws parking lot. Hurry up, hurry up."

The line of his neck is so pretty stretched out and taut like this, the bump of his adam's apple moving as he speaks. How close is he to falling apart right now? He doesn't want to make this any harder on William while they’re still in public, so he tries to keep him distracted. "I don't really control the traffic, you know. Settle down, princess."

"Don’t call me 'princess,' asshole. I did this for you." Auston has to bite both of his lips together at his indignant expression. 

"I mean, I didn't really tell you to do it."

"'He didn't tell me to do it,' he says," William huffs. His breath is warm against Auston's palm, making him shiver. "That's cool, be that way. I have my own hands."

That makes him laugh, despite everything. This was the last thing he expected coming into the rink that morning, this magnificently odd creature just deciding that today is all about butt plugs. Auston hopes he will think that this entire thing is funny eventually, not something that he regrets doing. He pulls one of William's balled up fists out of his hoodie pocket, threading their fingers together throughout the rest of the ride, as they're easing into his condo's underground parking. He holds William's hand again during the elevator ride up. 

All Auston wants to do now is sink into him. It'll be hours before either of them come up for air, if he has anything to say about it.

"Almost there."

-

One of them should be slowing things down, and that person should probably be Auston. But good intentions slip out of his grasp when he slams William's back against the door the second it closes. They both stumbled through the last few feet as they crossed the corridor, Auston's own control fraying away to nothing--his desire, carefully banked for most of the day, flares into a blaze.

He sucks at William's tongue desperately, pushing his thumb against the hinge of his jaw to get him to open his mouth wider. Then he steps back and tugs against fabric, pulling off hoodie and shirt over William's head at the same time. He is fever-hot up against Auston's palms--god, he must be burning up all over. Auston can't help the next quick bite into the lips that he has bitten into for most of the car ride.

"So fucking good for me."

His words make William whine, both hands coming up around his neck. After kicking off their shoes, Auston moves them further into the hallway, walking backwards to the couch through sense memory and blind faith alone. William cries out against his mouth when his ass hits the seat, his back bowing. Their chests brush together as Auston climbs on top of him, his knees bracketing undulating hips--William's fingers are impatient as they clutch at his clothes, but then Auston takes hold of both of his wrists and slams them above his head. 

"What are you doing?" Crazed blue eyes stare back at him.

"I know you've been feeling it all day," he says, "but it's probably not the same as when I fill you up, is it? Like, you must be open now, but open enough for three fingers? For more?"

William's mouth slackens in shock and Auston takes advantage of that, letting go of one wrist so he can run the other over a tight, hard nipple. It makes William jerk up from the couch. The demon in Auston's head, the one that comes up with all the filthy shit, roars back to life after hours of biting back his words in front of their teammates. It sends a shiver down his spine when recognition dawns on William's face.

_Yeah,_ Auston thinks, allowing himself to grin, _we're gonna do this right_. 

He moves his hand to the knot in front of William's shorts. Bearing down on his hips when William starts to wriggle, Auston bends down so their faces are a hair's breadth away. Whispers, "I should just get you off with my fingers right now and be done with it, huh? There's no way you can hold out long enough to get ready for dick."

William moans. "I fucking hate you."

He laughs in response, light and mocking. 

A couple of quick jerks and William's shorts and boxers are down to his thighs, his cock springing free and hitting his stomach with a wet slap. Thick and red, precome already soaking the head--he must've been like this for a long time, beautiful and trembling, just aching for someone to touch him. Entranced by the sight, Auston is about to wrap his fingers around his length when William stops him with a sudden grip around his hand.

"Don't."

Auston tenses. Does he not-- "Will?"

"Not yet." Eyelashes flutter erratically as he struggles to keep his eyes open. His fingernails bite against Auston's skin. "Please. I want to come on your dick."

_Fuck._ Auston surges forward with a growl, unable to form a coherent thought over the roaring in his ears. William whimpers against his mouth, whether from the force of the kiss or Auston's torso pressing down against his cock. It sounds like William is seconds away from losing control and it's not what he wants--Auston lets up. Kisses both of his hands as they try to reel him back in with a distressed cry.

"I'll be back," he says against William's fingers. "Come on, babe. I gotta get you ready."

He's off the couch and stalking towards the bedroom in one fluid motion, shedding his own clothes without a care for where they land. He paws for lube inside his bedside drawer like a desperate man, before coming back to see William with an arm over his face, his chest heaving. 

After taking a long, deliberate breath, Auston grips one of his thighs and angles it wider, takes a moment to inspect his hole. The plug contrasts starkly against his skin, the base is damp around the edges from when William first prepped himself. His rim is bright pink, pulsing against the plug as Auston pulls it out. He kisses William's hole briefly, almost chaste, before he slips in two lubed fingers at once. William moans as they go in easily.

"Poor Willy. It's been a long day for you, huh? But you did so good. You kept it together. Nobody in that restaurant had a clue just how much you were gagging for it."

He doesn't make William wait for long. A couple of strokes more, then Auston gives him three fingers, twisting his wrist to get deeper before scissoring them apart. Crowding between his legs, Auston smears lube on his own dick, breaching his rim before finally, finally sliding home.

William bucks against his first thrust, and Auston has to loop an arm around the small of his back to keep them both from toppling off the couch. He plants a foot on the floor to keep his balance and that gets him even deeper, his hips slapping against William's ass with a squelch. The living room is filled with William calling out his name, punctuations over the sounds of their bodies moving wetly in tandem. He reaches over to lift William's arm from his face. 

"Auston, god--you feel--" 

A tingling sensation starts from the heels of Auston's feet, whizzing up his legs. His balls start to tighten up, jerking when they brush against the cleft of William's ass. He blinks his eyes open and strains to keep each push controlled and relentless.

"Did you think about this all day?" Auston pants, looking down at William's closed eyes, his face twisted in pleasure. "Did you imagine opening up for my dick when you were sitting across from me? Because I did, babe, you were all I thought ab--"

He cuts off mid-word. Slick muscles spasm around his cock as William starts to come, clutching at him is so tightly that Auston sees white. The splash of come across his chest feels like a brand, and it surprises him how viscerally he likes it, the idea of William leaving marks on him. Auston tries to ease of the speed of his thrusts, to give him room to breathe, but those glorious thighs are tightening around his hips, William lifting his pelvis off the cushions like he's offering his hole to Auston and _god, fuck_. 

Orgasm hits him like a train.

William squeaks when Auston slumps with his full weight on top of him, but he puts his arms around Auston's shoulders anyway, one hand carding through his sweat-soaked hair. They spend long, wordless moments just catching their breath, William squirming a little as Auston's dick slips out of him, along with a bit of come.

When he shores up enough strength, Auston lifts his head and asks teasingly, "So do you still hate me?" 

"No. Still wanna kill Kappy though."

He laughs, thumbing away the mixture of sweat and tears under William's eyes. "Well then. I'll help you hide the body."

As Auston lifts himself off their tangled sprawl and makes his way towards the bathroom, he notes that the sun is starting to slant down on the horizon. He idly considers which takeout place to order from--William is probably starving from not having that much to eat at lunch. They're also gonna have to Pledge the shit out of the couch again. After cleaning himself up, he runs a towel under the sink and brings it back to William.

He makes pleased, humming sounds as Auston wipes him down. Then he murmurs, "You're gonna have to buy an Instant Pot for real so we can cover our tracks with the guys."

"Baby, it's like you don't know me." Auston smirks. "I got that shit locked down since last year's cyber Monday sale."

"You're such a weirdo," William says, then laughs when Auston just winks at him.

William sits up when he finishes with cleanup duty, making a face as the leather sticks to his back. Then his hands reach for Auston's cheeks, pulling him close. He obeys immediately, opening his mouth to his exploring tongue, sucking at it softly. It's a lazy, unhurried kiss, even though Auston knows he can easily ramp it up another notch or ten. When he pulls back, he's gratified to see that William has that hazy, yearning look in his eyes.

"You wanna take the Instant Pot for a spin?" he asks. "Really solidify our alibi."

William wrinkles his nose. "So like, we're gonna cook?"

"Yeah. How about we go for a grocery run, get take out, then we come back here and make a night out of YouTubing some tutorials and shit?" He scratches a spot on William's left knee. "Come on, we're both smart guys. We can figure it out."

For a few seconds, William just squints down at him, clumps of still-sweaty hair falling over his face in spikes. Then his face erupts into a smile, like Auston just told him the most kickass give-and-go play that they can try on their next shift.

"Sounds like a great idea. I'm in."

*

**Author's Note:**

> Postscript: They are not smart guys, but they do figure it out. It only takes them one emergency call to Zach.
> 
> Thank you so so soooo much to Helen, Kit and Brooks for their input and support, as well as everyone I bugged about this. You're the real ones. Catch me @ disastrnak on Twitter. ✌

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfics] You got the cure underneath your shirt + Because I take your lead, take your lead + My heart beats like a drum, can you hear it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21988192) by [Annapods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annapods)


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